Inked
by Anjelle
Summary: In which Law gives Sabo a tattoo in memory of his brother.


**This is a quick little birthday drabble. I was given the prompt of 'Law giving Sabo a tattoo' and, well. This happened. Unfortunately this isn't the _only_ drabble I'm writing for this prompt. I couldn't decide whether to write it in canon or as an AU and since I had 2 different but similar ideas I'll be posting the AU version next week as the next chapter. I'll warn now that it's best to be caught up with the manga before reading this, but I did make some changes to canon. I needed Sabo to be there (and I was too lazy to think of a whole new set-up for them to reunite to make this possible) so I had him leave Dressrosa with the rest of Luffy's group instead of on his own. Without saying goodbye. The ass.**

 **...I'm sorry I'm still bitter. Anyways, enjoy!**

 **And happy (belated) birthday, Sa!**

* * *

Sabo took a seat as the doctor dropped his bag onto the table, leaning into the back of the chair with a curious look, trying to see around the other's back to no avail. He wasn't quite sure how he was feeling, a mix of uncertainty and eagerness bubbling up within his gut as the seconds passed and yet, strangely, he was still… calm. Relaxed, even. This had been something he'd thought about for a long, long time. Two years. Two long, drawn-out years. But in the position that he was he couldn't simply go seek someone out to do this for him. The revolutionaries' chief of staff could never risk being so careless. He had duties to tend to, and his face was so well-known by this point that he was easily recognised every time he docked at an island.

"Take your clothes off."

He stiffened, back straight and blinking at the pirate as he let out a confused, "What?"

Gold eyes glared dully down at him before returning their attention to the bag, a soft sigh soon to follow as vials of inks were removed and lined alongside one another on the table. "Unless you wish me to ink your sleeve instead, take off your clothes."

"...Ah." An amused grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he shrugged off his coat and threw it over the back of his chair, shaking his head. He'd been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he forgot where he was. "Right. Sorry about that."

Untying the cravat he peeked over at the artist, watching as practiced hands pulled on a pair of sleek, medical-grade black gloves, the open end reaching just past his wrists. Trafalgar Law. He admitted that he'd never really given much thought to the man - or any of the supernovas that passed through Sabaody, really. At least not at first. As curious as their strength was as rookies, he had more important things to concern himself with, things just so much bigger than they were, and any thoughts he had centring around them were cast aside just as quickly as they came to mind.

Strawhat was interesting, though. Strawhat caught his attention from the moment he declared war on the world government. He'd heard word of just what happened to Enies Lobby; it didn't matter how well the government had covered up the story. But just as with any tale it soon enough slipped his mind.

Looking back, he could kick himself.

Law began wandering the room, double-checking his setup and equipment, and Sabo couldn't help the teasing grin on his face. "Are you really sure you should be doing this?" he prompted, eyebrow raised.

"It's nothing I haven't done before."

"Well," Sabo continued, a bounce to his step as he rose and tossed his belt and shirt off to the side, leaving the marred skin of his torso bare to the world as he retook his seat, "you're still recovering from your fight. I recall hearing that your arm was severed. One of the small ones sewed it back on, right? The tontatta?"

Law let out a soft snort as he dropped down onto a stool before the revolutionary, shifting close. "You're only asking this now?"

"Maybe it just occured to me." The mischievous smile told otherwise, he knew. "You should be resting, too, shouldn't you?"

"I'm more than capable," Law murmured, absently looking over the scars of his chest and arm.

"We're on a ship, as well. I'd rather not end up with a shaky black blob permanently inked to my arm."

Law's eyes flickered up to meet Sabo's, a thinly-veiled look of insult hidden behind his ever-set frown. "I regularly perform surgery in an underwater submarine."

"Fair point," Sabo conceded, placating hands raised, "I just wanted to be sure."

The pirate seemed satisfied with that answer and moved close, looking over the skin carefully. A short silence passed between them, Law's lips pressed in unspoken thought. "Which arm did you say?"

"Right," he lied, a small smile on his lips as he watched the doctor move closer to the aforementioned arm. Initially he'd asked for left. That was the side Ace had his on in his pictures, and… it was the closest to his heart, as sappy of a reason as that may have been. But the textured scars from his burns would make keeping steady difficult, he knew, and with everything working against them from their location to Law's current health he didn't want to force the extra burden onto his artist.

But it seemed that Trafalgar Law was a very perceptive man as his eyes flickered back up, brow furrowed into a steadily-deepening scowl. "I can cover scars easily. Don't underestimate my abilities."

Sabo blinked. "But-"

"You wanted it on your left?" It didn't really sound like a question, and the look he was being given left him no room to argue as he was forced to concede with a silent nod. Law motioned for him to turn the chair to allow better access, and as he did so he noticed a strangely satisfied look on the other's face. "It won't cover all of the scarring. Is that alright?"

Once more he was pulled from his thoughts by the question, watching as the space between his shoulder and elbow was cleaned. The question confused him, just slightly - of course it wouldn't, the design being so small and simple - but in the end he just shrugged. "I don't need it covered. I'm not ashamed or embarrassed by it. My… brother had his on his left. That's all."

Satisfied with that answer, Law began to draw on the design. The tip almost tickled; parts of his scarring were sensitive, and he had to wonder just how the needle would feel because of it. As he carefully traced out the design Sabo caught him more than once glancing at the marks along the torso. It didn't seem to bother him, no, and yet he still just… kept looking.

"Find something to amuse yourself with?" came the eventual prompt, causing Law's hands a brief pause. "I'm not quite sure how willing I am to share that story with you just yet."

Law shook his head, the faintest traces of a smirk on his face as he returned his focus to Sabo's arm. "I don't care to ask."

"Then what's with absent looks, hm?"

Lips pressed, Law capped the outliner and stood, walking over to the far wall. "Scars like these remind me of someone, I guess you could say."

Sabo's only response was a nod. He wouldn't pry. Instead he focused on the mirror he was being gestured to, eyes falling on the lightly drawn-on outline on his arm. A smile curled across his lips and he gave an approving nod. "Exactly as I envisioned it."

The doctor dropped back into his seat, this time with the tattoo machine in hand, a small vial of black ink inserted. Sabo decided looked away as it turned on, counting the knots in the wooden ceiling above to try to lessen his reaction when the process started. As high a pain tolerance as he had… he really couldn't be sure about how it would feel against his scars.

Soon the buzzing started and he was mindful of staying relaxed. The first pressure he felt was from Law's fingers as they pressed into his skin and soon a small, jabbing pain was there to join it. He was relieved to find it to be little more than an annoying stinging, though he supposed he could attribute a lot of that to have an overall high tolerance for pain; he'd been injured so much in both practice and real world combat over the years that a small, jabbing needle was significantly more tolerable. The less he thought about it the less it bothered him, and soon the excitement from before made its return.

He could clearly recall the long, sleepless nights that followed the Marineford war, hours spent staring at the black and white printed images of his brother in the newspapers, mulling over memories that had long since been buried, faded with age even as he'd just gotten them back. Some nights he would just sit there. Wonder. Did Ace and Luffy know about what happened at the port? Had they thought him dead, or… had they even gotten his letter?

Why hadn't he remembered sooner?

Questions like that kept him restless, sleep deprived for his morning duties, and while his productivity never wavered the weeks were there to leave him feeling worn and exhausted. Miserable, even. Grieving… was not something so easily dealt with, and though he hated it he had much to mourn, and much to regret.

"I don't know of many people who would get their own name tattooed on their arm. I will admit that I'm curious."

The voice cut through the silent reverie he'd fallen into and he blinked, turning to Law. As he processed the words a slow-growing grin crossed his face. "You are?"

"Vaguely."

"Of course. Vaguely." He let out a soft snicker, relaxing back into the chair. His eyes followed the dip of the needle as it poked at his arm. "My brother had his name on his arm, just like this. I'm… paying homage, I guess you could say."

At some point Sabo began accumulating pictures of his brothers - from wanted posters or news clippings, it didn't matter. He would reread old articles, try to figure out just what he'd overlooked during that cloudy first decade since their separation, and along the way their photos became somewhat of a treasure to him. Three years worth for Ace… less than one for Luffy.

But he'd noticed it when his collection first began - the four letters emblazoned across his brother's arm. His eyes caught on the crossed out 'S' and his chest clenched, eyes widening, and he knew just what it meant. It… hurt at first, more for the knowledge that his brother died believing he was gone than anything. But it was touching, too, and he felt…

Since he was now the brother left behind, it was only right to offer Ace the same respect, wasn't it?

"Firefist?"

"Ah?"

"That brother you're speaking of."

Sabo nodded, eyes trained on the fresh ink left behind by the pricking of his skin. "Yes. Portgas D. Ace. I'm stealing his idea, I guess you could say."

Law let out a soft snort, shaking his head absently. Despite the amusement on his face his focus was strong, sight never moving from his work. It was impressive just seeing how much he was concentrating, and… mildly inspiring. Though behind all of that Sabo wondered just why, exactly, a surgeon needed to know how to ink tattoos. Where had he even picked this up? "He crossed out a letter, didn't he?"

"Observant."

"And yet here you are." Law's eyes had fallen to the second letter and the design around it, barely-there curiosity on his face. "I assume there's a story behind that."

Sabo frowned before heaving a burdened sigh. Somehow he knew someone would ask that. Again. Koala had done so before, as had Hack when he mentioned it in passing. "Crossing out his initial seems a bit… dismissive, don't you think?"

Law's work paused, gold eyes meeting his own in question.

He didn't really know how to explain it which only led him to pout. "It just… feels insensitive to me, I suppose," came the muttered answer as he looked away. "He had a crew before he joined Whitebeard - the Spade pirates. Ace of Spades. He wasn't a very creative person, I'll admit. But I would rather represent that than the fact that he's dead."

Despite his words Sabo knew all too well that that hadn't been the intention behind the 'S' in his brother's tattoo. A representation of the flag he made, perhaps, skull and crossbones standing proudly behind his initial. It had been the only symbol he made for himself growing up. While his brothers grew and moved on, soon forming jolly rogers for their crews, time had stood still for him. All those years he hadn't even remembered his desire to be a pirate, and while he knew that was no longer what he wanted, simply forgetting felt… wrong.

"You won't regret it." He turned back towards law as the buzzing pain returned. "Getting a tattoo in honour of a loved one."

Sabo blinked, and slowly his eyes roved over the bandaged form of the artist, catching the stark black ink peeking out from around the white cloth covering heavily-wounded skin. He'd remembered seeing Law's tattoos before they left Dressrosa, symbols he couldn't place the meanings of yet all appeared very similar to one another - related. And on his chest rested a large heart, something greatly resembling the pirate's jolly roger weaved into the centre of the design.

And suddenly he wondered just why the Surgeon of Death named his crew 'Heart'.

He smiled. "I know I won't. I'm not worried."

Law snorted, moving onto the last bit of the tattoo. When had he gotten so far? It only felt like a few minutes, and yet… "It's comforting, I suppose."

Sabo watched him carefully as he pulled away, rising to his feet, and as Law turned around he caught a glimpse of the large tattoo on the pirate's back. Curious. "We've talked about my tattoo in length but now I'm made to wonder…"

"Of?"

He pointed to Law's back. "Your jolly roger. Luffy's I understand but yours remains a mystery. Care to humour me?"

The surgeon stilled, falling silent, but it never lasted as he went back to his task, and though the angle made it difficult he see there was a faint, upward curl to Law's lips.

Trafalgar Law… was a curious man.

"It is something I will never forget."

* * *

 **Adieu~**


End file.
